


Hear Them Roar

by CaptainTarthister



Series: The Lannisters Are Coming [14]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), brienne of tarth - Fandom, jaime lannister - Fandom
Genre: Brienne is past her due date, Cersei and Robert actually love each other, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Jaime and Brienne kiss A LOT, Jaime is frustrated, Pregnant Sex, Something gross happens, Woman on Top, labor, lots of hand-holding, make-up sex, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne is past her due date and unleashes a temper that puts genuine fear in Jaime. But Jaime is nothing but patient and Brienne is quickly apologetic. Things get hot despite the cold. Family fluff follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hear Them Roar

Part 3 of The Lannisters Are Coming. Not sure if this is the conclusion yet.

 

All characters by George RR Martin. I own nothing and know nothing. 

 

 

Two weeks, they’ve been told, in two weeks the twins were due. Jaime and Brienne had grinned at each other after finding out the due date. Both couldn’t wait to see their babies, each secretly hoping the boys got their father’s mischievous emerald eyes and their mother’s gentle, flashing, sapphire stare.

Brienne’s pregnancy was uneventful, if that could be said. There was the morning sickness, of course, that was expected, and the surge in her hormones that had her wanting Jaime more than the air she breathed. Of the latter, her doctor, Jeyne Westerling-Stark had smiled and prescribed that she enjoy her eager, willing husband as much as possible.

“Babies are a joy, I have three myself,” she told Brienne. With her long, dark hair, doe-eyed black gaze and a slight frame more befitting a teenager than an adult, Jeyne Westerling-Stark would have looked like she was playing doctor if not for the confidence behind her words. Still, three children? Already? How old was she? She couldn’t be more than her age, Brienne thought and wilfully moved her mind back to the doctor’s discussion.

“But believe me when I tell you that the exhaustion you’ll feel taking care of one would be unlike any other. You’ll be having two. Your husband seems to be one who’s genuinely ready to help, to bid your command.”

That was the understatement of the year. As one third of LSM Creatives, an advertising agency that stood for Lannister, Stokeworth and Marbrand Creatives, Jaime’ s job as art director meant long hours and long days. How he still managed to cook her healthy meals, massage her feet, rub her back, drive to the twenty-four-hour deli for midnight reuben sandwich cravings and keep her very satisfied and happy between the sheets or the couch and run a company, Brienne couldn’t imagine.

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she wouldn’t believe it herself. She still worried though, and voiced her concerns about pushing her husband too hard to the man himself.

Jaime, putting a glass of raspberry banana smoothie with skim milk in front of her, snorted. “You can never push me too hard, wife. Besides, I’m strong enough.”

It was a Saturday morning. Their apartment was bright with sunlight and thick with the smell of waffles, coffee, and Jaime’s chocolate chip cookies scent. Brienne sniffed appreciatively. She was sitting on the couch, wearing Jaime’s threadbare King’s Landing University-Westeros t-shirt and worn boxers. Her long legs were stretched out before her, exceeding the length of the couch. Jaime gently raised them, sat down, and put them on his lap. He handed her a plate of waffles swimming in syrup, scrambled eggs on the side, before getting his own plate. Then he flicked the remote, switching on the TV for their House of Cards marathon.

Brienne ruffled his hair. “I know that. But you must tell me when you’re tired. Sweetheart, I don’t want you running yourself ragged just because your pregnant wife may be sensitive. I’ve thicker skin than that, I think.”

“Hmm,” Jaime kissed her fingers, grinning. “Does that mean you’ll be giving me a foot massage in the future?” “

Get my delicate hands on your gnarly feet? Are you kidding me?” Brienne howled.

“I’m sorry, delicate hands? I may have gnarly feet, wife, but yours are the size of submarines.”

“Used to be,” Brienne complained. She flexed her toes. “I think they’re closer to the size of aircraft carriers now.”

“Well, they are sexy aircraft carriers.” He teased her, tickling the arches of her feet. Brienne giggled and yelled at him to stop. He did, but he continued to keep her feet in his hands. Examing one, he murmured, “Submarines and aircraft carriers are roughly the same size, I think. But I can tell you that the next time we go snorkelling, you definitely won’t be needing flippers.”

“Asshole!” Brienne shouted at him couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling out of her.

Jaime smiled and sat back, massaging her feet and calves.

“I tried on one of your loafers. They’re a little tight on the toes,” Brienne said a minute later. She was watching the show.

Jaime was too until he realized what the consequences of her trying on his shoes might entail. He looked at her.

“Seven hells, wife, don’t force yourself into my shoes. You can have my life, my money, my cock, anytime, especially my cock, it’s yours anytime and all the time, you can have everything. Just stay away from my shoes. They’re handmade Italian leather.”

“I don’t care if unicorns made them. What the fuck are you talking about? We’re married. We share everything.”

Jaime cocked an elegant brow at her. “Does that mean you’ll lend me your Manolo Blahnik boots?”

“Stay the fuck away from my boots, husband.”

“ _Your_ boots? _I_ gave them to you.”

“They were a gift. Ergo, they’re _mine._ ”

Laughter shook their bodies. Jaime did look a little tired, Brienne thought, but that Lannister pride gave him a thick skull. But at least, their mirth put some light in his emerald eyes. She would touch him on the cheek if she wasn’t so comfortable right resting against the arm of the couch now so she let him caress her legs, kiss her knees as they resumed watching House of Cards.

Ten minutes later, it was Jaime who interrupted their focus this time.

“Brienne, can you believe in two weeks we’re going to be _parents_?”

She was still turned towards the TV but he saw the smile that touched her lips. “Shut up, Jaime. I’m watching.” 

 

 

"Fuck it, fuck them all,” Brienne swore two weeks and three days later. “Throw them down the toilet, feed them to lions, I don’t give a shit. Why the fuck do people keep on calling?”

Jaime, sitting at the edge of the bed, had his head buried in his hands. “Fucking stupid we told everyone our due date.”

“Don’t they fucking have lives to return to?” Brienne wailed, punching the pillows.

How wrong she was thinking this was an easy pregnancy, she thought, growling and taking out her frustration at the pillows again.

Summer was beginning, which meant temperatures rising, the air dry when it blew. Most days, it was a puff more pathetic than a newborn dragon’s, if the legends of the Targaryens' rise to power were true. Brienne couldn’t believe it. She survived morning sickness, out-of-control hormones that kept her in a state of rampaging lust for months, but this heat, this wall of heat that followed her around and the babies on an all-day and all-night soccer game in her stomach—if they weren’t stomping on her gall bladder so she was getting up what felt like every hour to pee—was seven hells. Maybe beyond.

To top it off, they’ve been hounded by calls by the Lannisters, her father, their friends, demanding to know what time she’d given birth and why on earth they never told anyone. Brienne took the calls unbothered at first but when she realized the phone only rang for another permutation of that fucking question about the birth, she tasked Jaime to it. Jaime had an even shorter fuse.

The last call had been from Bronn. Usually, Brienne didn’t approve of cursing but every _fuck_ Jaime hurled at his best friend, she felt, was richly deserved.

Jaime collapsed on the bed heavily and looked at Brienne. All the air conditioning was on full blast in their apartment but sweat still fell in steady streams down her cheeks, to her chest, to think she was only wearing a the top half of a shirt, having snipped at the lower portion in her annoyance, and panties. Flushed skin, endless legs, _his wife’s_ flushed skin and endless legs, were sure-fire ways into Jaime’s heart and cock but he was as annoyed as she was at the intrusive phone calls.

He shivered. It may be summer outside but the chill in their apartment made it a slice of the Lands of Always Winter. Swathed in a robe and two sweaters, thick sweatpants over long johns and the thickest wool socks he could find, Jaime was sure that the cold in the apartment had frozen his blood in their veins. It was the only explanation why his cock was only half-hard at the sight of Brienne’s near-naked state.

“Brienne, honey,” he had to keep his lips moving or his face will freeze. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything. Anything, I swear to you. I hate seeing you like this.”

His words, meant to comfort, had the opposite effect on Brienne. Her sapphire eyes had the murderous glare of the legendary Night’s King, he was convinced, and actually found himself shrinking away in genuine fear. Hell, Brienne was six-foot-three, powerful, formidable. Throw pregnancy in the mix and you had a pissed-off Amazon that would gleefully end you.

“You hate seeing me like this? Well, tell you what, Jaime Lannister, I wouldn’t be like this if you didn’t insist on fucking me when I told you we shouldn’t!”

“I’m sorry? You told me we shouldn’t? When the fuck did you ever tell me _we shouldn’t_?”

“When I had that bad cold and I skipped the Pill. When I told you I was too sick to fuck but you were like, `Oh, wife, your red nose makes me fucking hard, let’s risk it’ and now look at me!”

Jaime remembered. He was hard the moment he began rubbing Vick’s vapour rub on her bare chest, and oddly turned on by her swollen, red nose and nasal voice. But—

“Don’t blame me, wench. You didn’t say no.”

“I didn’t say no? I was too sick to even realize what you were doing until too late!”

“Hey, you’re the one who took her clothes off—“

“Because, _you fucking idiot_ , I was going to put vapour rub on me but you offered. I was so stupid to think you didn’t have a hidden agenda—“

“You enjoyed it! And your cold was gone the next day!”

“Still!”

“Brienne, honey, moon of my life, I’m sorry, _I’m so sorry_ for getting you pregnant and making you feel hot and uncomfortable all the time,” Jaime said desperately. “I’d be the one carrying the babies if I could. I will do anything, anything, to help you but arguing won’t help. Please. I don’t know what to do. Yelling at me isn’t giving me any more ideas what to do.”

Brienne’s heart ached at how broken and helpless he sounded. Tears swam in her eyes before sliding down her cheeks. Jaime would laugh at how comical she looked like now, red-faced and all, but he was so mad at how their doctor couldn’t do simple fucking math, and hated how he didn’t know what to do to make his wife comfortable.

To his relief, Brienne held out her arms to him and he crushed her to his chest. Damn the layers of his clothes, he thought, holding her tighter but couldn’t get close enough.

“I’m sorry for being so mad, Jaime,” she whispered against his chest.

“Me too. I’m sorry,” he said against her hair. It smelled of sweat, vanilla shampoo, and Brienne, his wife. It was the headiest perfume in the world.

“Jaime?” Brienne pulled her head away from his chest.

He brushed the tears away from her cheeks. “What is it?”

“Make love to me? I won’t say no,” she said. Her sapphire eyes were soft. “I’ll never say no to you. I swear it. ”

“I want to—believe me I want to—“

“What’s wrong?”

Jaime laughed. “I’m worried if I take off my clothes my cock will freeze and fall off.”

“Well, why don’t you let me warm it then?”

“What do you have in mind?” Jaime asked as she put a hand on his chest and pushed him flat on his back on the bed.

“Let me make it up to you,” Brienne said, pulling off his gloves then throwing her leg over his thighs so she was straddling him.

Jaime didn’t think that something as innocent as her hands closing around his could be so erotic, that he’d be so turned on. His breath was pale puffs in the air as he watched Brienne gently blow on his palms. And the way she was looking at him. _Fuck._ Those eyes were always his undoing.

Brienne kept on blowing and kissing his palms until they felt warm enough. And then she pulled them under her shirt, towards her breasts. Her shirt was sticky with sweat but if she took it off, his hands will cool again.

“Jaime,” she gasped when his hands cupped her breasts. She pressed them closer to her breasts, fighting for some more control. How the Seven was she so turned on and wet and he’d just begun touching her?

“Keep your hands there, please,” she told him before reluctantly letting go.

Her eyes on her husband’s slumberous stare, she began pulling at his pants. He wore two. Brienne wanted to growl in frustration but he might think her angry at him and she wasn’t, oh no. Just. . .really eager to fuel the tension in her body towards something a lot more pleasurable. Haste makes waste, she reminded herself and began unknotting the drawstring of his pants before dragging it down to his thighs. She pulled his long johns off next, discovered he was wearing boxers and pulled them down too.

“There you are,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the thick, long length of his cock pointing straight to his stomach.

She licked her lips, _holy fuck,_ Jaime thought, his hips rearing towards her instinctively.

Brienne blew into her cupped hands before reaching for his cock.

“Brienne, _fuck,_ ” Jaime gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as she rubbed it against her cunt, the thin cotton of her underwear damp and warm. She swept a thumb on the bead at the tip of his cock and Jaime gasped. “Please.”

Brienne pulled the narrow panel of her panties aside. Both of them groaned as she sank down, taking him easily into her tight, warm heat.

“Look at me, Jaime. Look at your wife,” Brienne pleaded, her hands wrapping around his again through her shirt.

Jaime opened his eyes and was treated to the vision of Brienne moving her hips so slowly it was so good, so slowly it was going to kill him. She arched her back, pushing her breasts against his clutching hands. Her belly seemed like the moon up close, so round and so pale.

“More,” he begged. “More, wife.”

“Always,” she said, moving faster. _“Gods, always.”_

Jaime threw his head back, his lips falling open. “So good. So fucking good. _You feel so fucking good, Brienne._ My _wife.My_ wife. So good.”

Their cries could have shattered glass had it been any louder. Jaime surrendered to Brienne, wishing they were skin to skin, wishing he could kiss her lips, lick her neck, squeeze her ass. As if reading his mind, Brienne pulled him up, easily, and Jaime eagerly angled his head to hers and crushed her mouth to his.

They were still kissing when Brienne felt a god-awful cramp seize her back. Gasping, she shoved Jaime away. Jaime, thinking he had angered her, was ready with an apology but then—

“Wife, did you just pee on me?”

“Shut up. That wasn’t pee.” Despite hissing, Brienne was as red as a strawberry. Fucking delectable, his wife was. Laughing, Jaime helped her off him, kissed her red cheeks and told her it was all right, he wasn’t disgusted. And he wasn’t, not at that time.

Actually, he didn’t feel grossed out but he wasn’t going to be the guy whose wife’s water bag broke on.

“I guess it’s time,” was all Jaime could say. Brienne nodded.

“Come here and kiss me, wife.”

“I’m in labor and you want me to come to you and kiss—“ Jaime wrapped his hand around her nape and pulled her down to his mouth, tasting her parted lips.

Brienne moaned then straightened up. “Let’s go, Lannister. Your cubs are coming.”

But not before Jaime made a quick bathroom stop. As he rinsed off the amniotic fluid from his body, he murmured, “The things I do for love.”

 

 

 

Jaime, carrying a bag packed for the duration of Brienne’s stay in the hospital, helped his wife into the car. He kissed her as he buckled her seatbelt tight. The drive was smooth, despite it being a weekend of events and activities in celebration of Warrior’s Day.

Soon, Jaime was pulling over in front of the hospital and helping Brienne out of the car. It was a mutual decision not to call on any of their family and friends until Brienne was admitted into a private room, changed into a gown and settled on her bed. A monitor stood by her bed, printing out heartbeats.

Brienne’s doctor, Jeyne, entered the room ten minutes later, a smile on her face.

“Finally, the Lannisters are here,” she told them. “How are we feeling?”

“The contractions are hell,” Brienne admitted. Jaime hid a grin. She wasn’t shy tonight. “Please, doctor, aren’t the twins—“

“Well, you’re only dilated two inches, Brienne. Don’t worry. Don’t rush it. Their heartbeats are strong and so are yours. They’ll come out when they’re ready. Now, I’ll be back to check on you soon, okay? Jaime?” Jeyne turned her attention to him. “Are you okay?”

He held Brienne’s hand. “I’d much rather be the one going through this.”

Jeyne’s brown eyes were warm. “I’d tell you two to get a room but you’re already in one. I’ll be back.”

After the door shut behind her, Brienne told Jaime, “Have you called them?”

“Are you sure?” But in truth, Jaime didn’t want to leave her side, not even for a few minutes.

“They’ve been calling. They’re waiting. Go on. I’ll be okay.” And to reassure him, she kissed him lightly on the lips. Jaime cupped her face and deepened the kiss before slowly dropping his hands and getting his phone from his pocket.

Before he slipped out the door, he winked at Brienne. “Don’t forget to save my seat.”

Brienne laughed. “I won’t.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

In the hallway, Jaime made several calls. Tyrion picked up on the first ring, and swore to the Seven he’d be there in twenty minutes. Apparently he was out having lunch with Margaery Tyrell, the first and only girl he had gone out with more than twice.

Selywn Tarth was next on Jaime’s list. It turned out that Brienne’s father was at the airport, just about to board a flight to Westeros. He wanted to surprise his daughter. Jaime sagged against the wall in relief. “Brienne will be so happy. I’m glad you’re coming too,” he said, crossing his fingers. With clear skies, the flight from Tarth would only be two hours, maybe less, if plane flew with the winds.

The third call was to Tywin. He was actually outside their apartment, with Indian take-out because he read somewhere that spicy food could trigger a birth. Honestly, Jaime didn’t know whether to cry at his father’s words or laugh. “I’ll be there shortly, son,” Tywin told him. “Don’t worry so much. Women give birth all the time. And Brienne is unlike any other. I believe she is the strongest of them.”

Jaime hung up. This time he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

A pained growl from Brienne’s room had him almost kicking the door off its hinges.

“Contraction,” Brienne told him with gritted teeth, clutching at her stomach. Jaime dove to her side, took her hand and pressed kisses on her sweaty forehead. With every pant, he kissed her, and kept on kissing her even when the shooting pains began to recede.

“Thank the gods you’re here,” Brienne said, collapsing against the pillows. “But I read that’s still nothing.”

“It didn’t look nothing to me.” He kissed her again. “Is there anything I can do?”

Before Brienne could answer, the door opened slowly. Even in shapeless, hospital greens, Cersei Baratheon was stunning. Sure, her golden blonde ponytail had loosened somewhat, there were shadows under her clear, emerald green eyes, eyes so much like Jaime’s. Exhaustion was clear on her face but the joy and surprise on her face wiped it away instantly as she approached her brother and sister-in-law.

“I could hardly believe it when I read your name among today’s patients,” Cersei said before she threw her arms around Brienne, hugging her tight. Brienne hugged her back.

“What are you doing here?” Jaime asked as Cersei kissed Briene on the cheek, smiled at her before reaching across the bed to squeeze his hand. He squeezed hers back.

“I’m on duty at the ER. Double shifts. I’m on my twelfth hour, I think,” Cersei replied. She was a trauma surgeon at King’s Landing General Hospital. Then she turned her attention back to Brienne, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, but stick around for the contraction and I’ll have a different answer,” Brienne told her.

“Oh, don’t remind me. I labored for twenty-two hours with Joffrey,” Cersei said. “The doctors wanted to go in and pull him out but I told them I’ll kill them if they force my baby out. He just needed time. All babies need time. And Joffrey wasn’t in any danger. He just wasn’t as ready as expected yet, which is normal.”

“Dr. Westerling-Stark says I’m not yet dilated enough,” Brienne told her. Jaime put his arm around her and she leaned against him.

Cersei picked up her chart from the bottom of the bed, nodded at some remarks there then moved to check the printout from the monitor. “Strong heartbeats, like a Dothraki’s,” she remarked, nodding. “Dr. Westerling’s young but she’s one of the best. You’re in good hands. Dear brother, wipe the worry off your face, for Brienne’s sake.”

“Can’t help it,” Jaime said and Brienne squeezed his hand.

“Before I leave, I can’t help but wonder, where is everyone else?” Cersei asked. “The way father’s been going on about the twins, you’d think it’s the second coming of Christ.”

Brienne blushed, pressing her face against Jaime’s chest. They were well aware that Tywin had not paid much attention to Cersei when she was pregnant, all because she carried a Baratheon.

“You know how father is with having more Lannisters in the world,” he told Cersei.

“Only too well. My son’s only half a Lannister, which isn’t really bad. Far from it,” Cersei said. “If he’s half the man his father is, I don’t think I have to worry about him being half of everything.”

“Robert is a good man,” Jaime agreed. “He’s the best. Well, I’ve stayed long enough. I’ll tell you to holler for me when the twins are out, Brienne, but that seems highly improper. But do call for me when they come, please? I’m going to be an aunt, at last.”

And she kissed Brienne on the cheek again, smiled at her before leaving.

Jaime held Brienne but she shook him.

“Go to her.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You know what. _Go._ ”

“Your contractions.”

“Are still coming and will still be coming when you return. Jaime, go. Talk to your sister.”

He kissed her on the nose then went out of the room.

Brienne let out a loud sigh and there it came, that blasted pain that felt like daggers stabbing at her.

“ _Fuck this shit,_ ” she growled, taking the pain.

 

 

 

Jaime found his sister at the end of the hallway, a phone pressed to her ear.

“Okay. I’m still on duty so I can’t leave yet,” she was saying to the phone. Even with her back to him, Jaime knew she was blushing and smiling. “What can you bring? Oh, Thai food. I would kill for some spicy coconut shrimp. . .” A laugh and then, “Well, that’s why I married you, baby. Now go. Hurry or you’ll miss Brienne giving birth to your nephews.”

“Cersei,” Jaime said softly and she turned around with a gasp, her hand on her heart.

“You startled me,” Cersei said, shaking her head and laughing. “What is it?”

Because he didn’t know what to say, he put his arms around her.

“Whoa,” Cersei said as his shoulder knocked at her nose. “Brother, whoa,” she said, her hands patting him on the back. “What’s this?”

“I’m sorry father makes it seem you are inadequate. Or your husband. Your son,” Jaime said, saying the first words that came to mind. “You should know that Tyrion and I never thought so. And Brienne, of course, never.”

If Cersei was moved by his words, she didn’t show it. But she did squeeze his hands. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You may be doing rounds but knowing there’s family should something go wrong—“

“Don’t say such things, Jaime,” Cersei’s voice was sharp but her eyes were gentle. Jaime looked down at her, and wondered when the experience stopped being like looking in the mirror. Age had done little to his sister’s beauty but there was a harshness to it, especially at the corners of her eyes. They were hard eyes. Jaime regretted that she’d spent her life being reminded how inadequate she was, simply because she was a woman.

“Brienne will be fine. The babies will be fine. I told you to stop worrying and here you are doing the exact opposite. She’s always strong for you. Give her a break and be strong for her this time. It will only be for a day at most, if your twins are anything like my son.”

Remembering how long she labored, Jaime paled.

Cercei actually guffawed. “That is why men never give birth. If the very idea of a long labor’s enough to knock you off your feet, what if you actually do it? Jaime, stop worrying. Please.”

“I can’t help it. What if—what if I’m like Tywin? What if-what if I always see my children less than perfect?”

“There will be times when you’ll see them as such. But that shouldn’t make you love them less. And it won’t, I promise,” Cersei squeezed his hands again before releasing them. “As for being like our father, again, something you should stop worrying about. For one thing, there’s Brienne. My money’s on her to beat you into a pulp if you wrong your sons. Then there’s Tyrion and me, ready to remind them that their father’s a fool for failing to see them for the gifts they are.”

Jaime chuckled then surprised her with another hug. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Fuck the Seven. Isn’t Brienne supposed to be the emotional one?” Cersei said, rolling her eyes. “Fine. You too. I, well, love you too.”

She patted him on the back awkwardly. Jaime kissed her on the cheek and ran back to his wife.

 

 

 

Brienne labored for sixteen hours, the worst hours in his life, Jaime’s opinion, as he was once again helpless from shielding his wife from the pain. She yelled at him, cursed him, cursed the Seven, shouted at Tyrion when he peeked in while Dr. Westerling-Stark was checking if she was dilated enough, shouted at him again when he began flirting with the doctor, who joined in yelling at him to get the fucking out of the room or she will set her husband’s direwolves on him.

As Tyrion left the room, he saw that his father and sister wore identical frowns on their faces. He’d laugh at how Cersei glared at him while she munched on shrimp she pulled with chopsticks from the carton Robert held to her but her husband looked ready to throttle him. A thought Tyrion didn’t concern himself with, he was a Lannister, after all, a lion did not concern himself with the thoughts of sheep, let alone stags.

But when he turned and saw the towering, six-foot-six figure of Selwyn Tarth glowering at him with the same expression Brienne had when she caught him standing too close under her skirt, Tyrion swallowed. “Selwyn,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t crack.

“My daughter’s in enough distress, Lannister,” Selwyn snapped. Brienne had his eyes. “If your family weren’t around I’d shove your face to the wall.”

“Get in line,” Robert said, his heavy black brows drawn together. “Cersei’s first.”

“Tempting but Brienne wouldn’t like it,” Cersei said.

“Oh, lighten up, all of you,” Tyrion said, rolling his eyes at them. “Just because everyone’s favorite Lannister is in labor doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun.”

“Some fun? That’s my daughter you’re talking about,” Selwyn growled. “And she’s a Tarth.”

“A Lannister by marriage is still a Lanniser,” Tywin said.

“Oh, father, do shut up about Lannisters,” Cersei told him, startling everybody. She glared at them, and she grabbed the takeout box from her husband. “Quit it. I’m cranky when tired and hungry.”

Robert his arm around her waist. “We can go to the cafeteria, if you want. Get you something more substantial to eat.”

“I’d like that very much but--,” Cersei said, giving him a small smile.

“They’ll inform us when Brienne gives birth. Come on now. You’re dead on your feet,” Robert urged her. “Shall I carry you?”

“Maybe later. When we get home? I won’t be able to hold my head up if a staff catches me being carried by my husband like some helpless damsel.”

Robert tweaked her nose. “You’re a lion and a stag, Cersei. Believe me, you are no damsel, and certainly not helpless.”

“Not half a lion, half a stag?”

“All lion, all stag.” Tyrion would have laughed at the softness in his sister’s face as she looked up at her husband except that this was the first time he had seen her look at someone with such love.

As he watched them walk down the hallways with their arms around each other, he wondered if a woman will look at him like that someday. Margaery, he realized and grinned, disbelieving. Why else was he seeing her for dinner tomorrow night? That made it three dates this week. 

Hardly a minute passed since the Baratheons left when the door of Brienne’s room suddenly opened. Dr. Westerling-Stark was taking off her coat, firing off instructions to a wide-eyed brunette nurse about getting a room ready. When the nurse passed them, Tyrion read from her nameplate Gilly Craster.

They could only watch as Brienne was wheeled out of the room, Jaime clutching her hand. In silence, they watched the doors of the emergency room swing wide open and shut behind the small crowd.

Tywin suddenly sank on one of the benches and started murmuring prayers to the Seven. Selwyn, unaware that it had been decades since the man had last believed in the Seven, sat down beside him and joined him.

 

 

 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Brienne wept. She was beyond tired, she was weepy. All she wanted to do was sleep but the pain wouldn’t leave her body, oh gods.

“Brienne, you’re crowning. All you need is one big push, come on,” Dr. Westerling-Stark urged her.

Jaime, who had long lost feeling in his right hand clutched in Brienne’s bone-crushing grip, kissed her sweaty brow. “You can do this, wife. You’re strong. You’re the strongest woman I know. I believe you.”

“Jaime, I can’t, I can’t.” Brienne’s face was red, curled in pain and frustration. “Please, please, will you do it for me?”

Jaime hid an inappropriate laugh by kissing her forehead. “Honey, I would if I could. You can do this. You are doing this. On the count of the three, are you ready? Are you ready?”

Brienne nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

“One, two, three. . .push!”

Jaime roared as Brienne let out a scream, the sounds of their cries rising over the snapping sound of bones breaking. This was followed by a harsh, high-pitched wail. Through the haze of her pain, Brinne watched a plump, pink baby being lifted from between her legs and wrapped in blue.

“That was great, Brienne,” Dr. Westerling-Stark was saying. “Give me another push, you’re a lioness, remember that. Go!”

Brienne took a deep breath and gasped as she felt it, her baby sliding out of her. Tears exploded from her eyes as she saw another pink baby being swaddled in blue. Beside her, Jaime was laughing and crying at the same time.

“Brienne, gods, you amaze me everyday,” he breathed, cupping her face in his huge hands. The euphoria from the birth dulled the pain searing at his hand for now.

“Jaime, it’s done,” Brienne gasped and he nodded. “Kiss me. Please kiss me.”

Their kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, was probably inappropriate before an audience but Dr. Westerling-Stark led the nurses in giving the couple a round of applause. Brienne laughed against Jaime, who was still kissing her, his tears mingling with hers.

“I love you more each day,” she whispered.

“I fall harder in love with you everyday,” he told her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lannister,” Dr. Westerling-Stark said. “Would you like to meet your sons?”

They both nodded. “Please,” they said in unison and laughed. No words could ever describe the joy on the Lannisters faces as they held their babies in their arms, unable to stop looking at their faces even for just a second. Jaime marvelled at how big they were, his wife really was something else. He kissed her again before lowering his head to kiss them gently. Brienne, her heart feeling too big in her chest as she watched her husband kiss their babies, felt another surge of tears in her eyes.

Giving birth had opened a floodgate of happiness that would sweep her away if she didn’t have their sons in her arms and Jaime, his eyes glowing like emeralds as he looked at her, anchoring her right to this moment, in this life.

Their babies’ cries were the voices of angels as far as she was concerned. She whispered, “That’s it. Hear them roar.”

 

 

“The handwriting is too small, I can’t make it out,” Tywin complained, leaning to read the card tacked on the cradle holding one his grandsons. He forgot the glass partition encasing the nursery and hit it quite hard. “Seven hells,” he murmured, rubbing his nose. “

"This one is Jeremy Tyrion,” Jaime said, too awed by the sight of his babies moving and looking around the bright light of thenursery. “And that’s Andrew Galladon.” 

Tyrion, standing next to him, caught his breath. “You named your son after me?” 

“The world needs more Tyrion Lannisters.” 

“Brother, I am touched.” And Tyrion meant it. 

“They have Brienne’s eyes,” Selywn was standing on Jaime’s right. He drank in the sight of his grandsons squirming in their swaddles. “ _My_ eyes. Such beautiful little boys. Hello,” he said, tapping the glass. “Look, Poppy’s here.” 

“I can’t tell who they look like yet,” Cersei was standing next to Selwyn. Robert had his arms around her. “But those are gorgeous eyes. They’ll be heartbreakers. I just hope at least one of them has Brienne’s good sense.” 

“They have Lannister noses, I can tell,” Tywin said. 

Robert laughed. “You said the same thing with Joffrey until he got older. The only Lannister features he has are Cersei’s eyes. In my opinion, they are the most gorgeous eyes in Westeros.” 

“Sweet of you to say, dear,” Cersei said, smiling at him. “But I’d rather you keep that to yourself when my brother and my sister’s father aren’t around.” 

One by one, they left, murmuring their goodbyes. Jaime nodded faintly in acknowledgement but he refused to stop looking at his sons, not until he got tired and sleepy, but even when he did, he was loathed to step away from the window. 

His heart slammed hard in his chest when Andrew Galladon’s sapphire eyes looked right into his. Then the baby yawned, his face scrunching. Jaime chuckled as he closed his eyes and stopped squirming. Jeremy Tyrion was still wide awake. He looked at him, his sleeping brother, then back to him. 

“Something tells me that you’ll be trouble,” Jaime said tenderly. “But I’m not worried. Your brother will no doubt always convince you to see sense, to think about your actions first before making them. He might beat you to make you see but I think you’ll grow up to be pretty much the same size. You sure made your mother work hard to bring you into the world.” 

Andrew Galladon’s eyes fluttered open and Jaime paused before continuing. 

“But she will tell you, you’re worth all the pain. That’s how she is. No matter the pain, as long as she fulfils her promise. She promised me you from the moment I fell in love with her. I swear to you that for the rest of my life, until the Stranger takes me, I will make sure I am worth that promise. I will love you until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, until the rivers run dry, and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves.”

 

 

 

It felt like there were weights pressing her eyes closed but Brienne opened them, determinedly. Despite the sleep that still clung to them, her eyes were sparkling sapphires as they scanned the room, searching, until they found the man slumped against the wall, his long legs stretched out to join her feet by the bed. 

She licked her dry lips as she watched him sleeping soundly despite the uncomfortable position. His neck would be stiff and his shoulders and back aching when he wakes, she thought, carefully sitting up so as not to rouse Jaime. She felt boneless but whatever discomfort her husband may have, she would soothe them. 

At that, her eyes fell on his bandaged hand and she flushed, remembering. A man who could see through his wife’s childbirth despite broken bones was not the sort you came across often. Strong enough, was how Jaime often described himself. Brienne had always disagreed. He was a lot stronger than he thought. 

Her breasts were aching, a sign that she should try feeding her babies. _Her babies_. She would think yesterday a dream if not for the pain that she wasn’t going to forget soon, if not for the immeasurable joy that swept through her at finally seeing her sons, their eyes so blue, so like hers, and Jaime unable to contain his tears at meeting them at last. 

“Brienne?” Jaime murmured, waking. She turned and saw him stretching, the motion lifting his shirt and baring his lean, trim stomach. He rubbed his eyes and opened them. They were green and bloodshot. 

“Did I wake you?” She asked. 

“No. I felt you were awake and thought to join you,” Jaime said, rising.

Brienne tilted her head as he kissed her on the lips. “How are you?” 

“Tired, but that’s all. I’m sorry about the hand,” she nodded at his bandaged right hand. 

“Broken bones will heal,” Jaime said, smiling at her. “You were the Warrior last night, wife. I was gobsmacked.” “

Hmm. I always thought I was the Maiden.” 

“Well,” the corner of Jaime’s mouth quirked, “sometimes I have to remind myself you’re not. You’re the Warrior and the Maiden, and now, Mother.” 

“You were the Warrior too, you never left my side. You gave me strength, Jaime, if you weren’t there, I don’t know if I could have done it.” She touched his cheek and he leaned into her touch. “Father. Warrior. Smith.” 

“Two warriors in the family,” he murmured. “Hear us roar.” 

“I’d like to hear our sons roar. Do you think you can get them?” 

“I don’t see why not. Is there anything else I can get you?” 

Brienne leaned back against the pillows and gave Jaime a smile that arrowed right to his heart. 

“I have you and our sons. I can not imagine what else I can possibly need.” 

“Well,” Jaime said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Some more children would be nice.” 

Despite feeling like limp rag, the pillow Brienne sent sailing in the air smacked Jaime right in the face. Their eyes shone as they stared at each other. 

“Moon of my life,” Jaime declared. 

As he returned the pillow to her, he kissed her again. Brienne sighed and clutched at his shirt, his hair before she was urging him away from her. Jaime groaned in protest but made his way to the door. 

“My sun and stars, will you please get our sons?”

“Gladly.”

“Oh, and pizza.”

“Pizza?” 

“I’ve been wanting pizza last night but then Cersei arrived, and then I had another contraction and then all that craziness,” she said defensively. “I labored sixteen hours for your cubs, husband, I more than deserve pizza. I’m starving.” 

“As my wife commands.” 

“Oh, and Jaime?” Brienne called out as he opened the door. He looked at her. “If you can get our children here and pizza in, shall we say, fifteen minutes, I will be willing to open a discussion about having more cubs.” 

And she sealed the deal with a wink that had Jaime whistling as he sauntered out. 

Yep. Definitely more cubs.

**Author's Note:**

> Jeyne Westerling-Stark is married to Robb. He breeds direwolves. I think she's a year or two older than Brienne.  
> Cersei (one of the my favorite characters although yes, I hate her), is madly in love with her husband. Robert worships Cersei.  
> Tyrion is falling for Margaery.
> 
> I think the reason why the Lannisters are fucked up is because Tywin is an unforgiving, greedy bastard. He's still quite like this in my Modern A/U but Jaime, Brienne and Robert make up for how horrible he's been to Cersei. And oh yes, in this world, Cersei is a dedicated surgeon, mother and is actually nice. 
> 
> It broke my heart when Khal Drogo died and I swear that episode in Season 2 had it plopped and bloody on the ground as Dany tearfully left him in the House of the Undying. I thought their words might work with Jaime and Brienne. I hope it does. Especially that part when Jaime speaks to his twins! 
> 
> Yep, that line came from Star Wars.  
> Also Friends. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Your comments are diamonds.


End file.
